


Who Runs the World?

by wannabewyler



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drabbles, Shorts, females, non-related
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-07 23:14:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 3,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8820112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wannabewyler/pseuds/wannabewyler
Summary: Girls. In the Harry Potter world, there are so many female characters with lives or views untold. Here is just a peak into some of them.





	1. Chapter 1

"He's amazing," she cooed, stroking a picture on her wall. Her friends glanced at each other uneasily. "I just know that he wants me, I just know it."

"Romilda?" One of her friends asked tentatively. "Is everything okay?"

"Of course it is," she snapped back, annoyed with the look of disbelief that was planted on their faces. "I have a plan to win Harry and I just know he's going to come running to me!"

Ah, Harry Potter. Her dorm mates had had to listen to his name and every attribute about him for a while now and they had frankly gone from being amused with her crush to annoyed and now damn straight worried. She was obsessed; a complete maniac.

"It isn't anything dangerous, is it?" Romilda snorted and shook her head, tossing her curls behind her head as she grabbed a chocolate box from her bed and left. "It is something dangerous, isn't it?" The three girls remaining in the room exchanged worried glances and prayed to Merlin that nobody got hurt.

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"Word on the street Romilda, is that your chocolates are the reason Harry and Ron went to Slughorn," Ginny growled, confronting the girl one year her junior in a corridor on the way to the common room. "You're the reason that my brother was in the hospital room."

"No I'm not!" She protested, her face flaming with embarrassment and anger. Yeah, her plan hadn't gone too well after all. "He shouldn't have eaten what wasn't his." Ginny snorted and raised an eyebrow.

"So if Harry had eaten the poisoned chocolates, you think my brother was just going to sit there and let him rant and rave about a girl he's never even mentioned before?" Romilda blinked, trying to hold back tears. "No, Ron would've taken him to Slughorn and we'd still be in the same situation. Leave. Harry. Alone."

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"Romilda?" One of her friends asked. "Are you okay?"

"No," she wailed. "No I'm not."


	2. Chapter 2

He was kind to her; he listened and made time and didn't avoid her like every other living witch and wizard in the castle. At first she'd tried to avoid him but he had been determined and resilient in getting her to warm up to him. Looking back on that, it should've been her first clue that everything wasn't as it should be.

He spoke softly to her, telling her about his day and some of the bafoons that were in his class. He never spoke a terribly bad word about anyone. Eventually she grew used to his blabbering and started to respond. Oh if only people knew that she'd responded to a Slytherin. The Bloody Baron would throw a fit and Ravenclaws would be filled with disbelief. It was unknown for her to converse with anyone other than members of her own house. Occasionally she spoke to other ghosts but there wasn't much company for the dead so it only made sense.

He was the first living person to hear her secret; the only person to hear it. She regretted it almost immediately.

He seemed to take on a different persona, one that made her fill with dread and she knew that if blood rushed through her veins, she'd have paled dramatically. His Slytherin side didn't come to show until he returned a few years later, the precious diadem that people hold so highly, in a box. He held it gently and lovingly but even from her position at the end of the corridor, she could sense the dark magic that filled it.

He'd defiled her mother's diadem. And it was all her fault.


	3. Chapter 3

As Walburga looked upon the family tapestry, the one that held every member of the family, she couldn't help but be filled with a weird sense of pride. Two sons she'd had, two sons that she'd brought into the world and raised.

Only one son had survived.

Sure, he was still walking and talking and breathing and generally living but he wasn't her son anymore. No, his name and face had been removed as much as possible on the tapestry and the only thing that remained was a scorch mark in his place.

She didn't like to dwell on her mistakes and instead turned to focus on her miracles.

Regulus Arcturus Black. 

Ah, now there was her son that filled her with every emotion she had ever struggled to show during her life. He was now working for The Dark Lord, a special honour in the family, and carrying out his duty to the Wizarding world. No harm would ever come to him in his position as a Death Eater.

But as she stood there, her eyes proudly fixed on her son's face, numbers etched into the fabric underneath. Her face paled and her hands shook. No, oh Merlin no. His death date was now scrawled in fancy numbers underneath his birth date which meant that she had in fact lost the one thing in life that she'd been happy with.

Regulus was dead, Sirius was dis-owned and her? She had no-one and no heir. The Noble House of Black was dying out and she couldn't help but feel a slither of guilt. She was the one who had pushed her Gryffindor son away and she was the one who had handed her Slytherin boy to Lord Voldemort.

She had doomed them all.


	4. Chapter 4

Being a grandmother should've meant that she watched her grandson grow up and spoil him with treats and presents whilst his parents (her son and daughter-in-law) scolded her but still smiled and allowed it to go on. Being a grandmother in the middle of a war meant that she had to watch her son and daughter-in-law remain in their beds at the hospital, their mind a mess and broken beyond repair whilst she raised her grandson as she would've raised Frank.

Neville was a lovely boy, a boy that she was unable to spoil, and he accepted his fate of being parentless.

They'd visit both Alice and Frank in St. Mungo's and he would talk to them, telling them about his adventures since the last visit and they would sit there and listen – well she guessed that they listened because they couldn't do much else. He'd shed a tear back when they were home and he was in his room whilst she would do the same but in her own room. Neither spoke of it.

As he grew up, and she grew older, it became more difficult for her to care for him. She was both relieved and distraught when it came to sending him to Hogwarts; he'd be cared for there but she wouldn't be able to look after him like she'd promised his parents.

Years passed and he grew into a strong, brave man and when it became known that he was standing up for what he believed in at school when the war had returned, she was filled with immense proudness which only tripled when Death Eaters came knocking at her door to punish him.

And when the war was over, both of them surviving, they returned to St Mungo's and sat by his parents and spoke about his new adventures. When Healer Granger came round and spoke to her grandson about new techniques that they were feeling confident about, she was filled with hope. Hope that her son would be able to see the man that his son had become.


	5. Chapter 5

A diadem that increased someone's intellect when they wore it was her legacy, her gift. And so, for her beloved daughter to steal it from right under her nose and flee? It hurt and destroyed her. It was probably the reason that she grew ill so quickly and drastically to the extent where others feared for her life. But what did she care? Without her daughter by her side and knowing that she'd been betrayed by the one person she loved more than anything in the world hurt her. She couldn't speak of it.

Helga commented often on Helena's absence but Rowena lied profusely, denying anything and everything each time. She knew her friend grew suspicious but she was too kind and loyal to say anything more. Her words continuously tugged at both Rowena's heart and mind though and so when she called for the Baron and sent him on his way to retrieve her daughter, she could only hope that his presence would be enough to sway her.

She laid in her bed, weakly and cold, waiting patiently for the return of her daughter but she didn't come in the form that she had expected.

When the ghost of Helena Ravenclaw flew through the walls and floated at the end of her bed, she felt her stomach sink and her hope disappear. She was meant to be able to hold her daughter, pull her close and kiss her on the head as she promised forgiveness and begged for her to never leave again. Now it would be her doing the leaving.

"I'm sorry Mother," Helena mumbled, eyes wide and unable to shed tears as she watched her parent take her last breath.


	6. Chapter 6

"Oh Albus are you sure you should be placing him with this family? They're dreadful people and he will not be raised with the love that he deserves, the love that he needs." Albus waved his hand, shooing her protests away and she quietened down. Not much a Squib could do against a powerful Wizard.

"Arabella, my dear, your worries are pointless. They are family and they will care for him as such." Arabella merely sipped at her tea, holding her tongue to prevent her from saying anything outrageous or downright rude. She may be elderly and small, unable to perform magic that she should've been born with, but she still had a nasty temper. "Now I must leave, Headmaster duties and whatnot." She nodded and walked him to her front door, stepping over Snowy's tail on her way. "I thank you for the Christmas present, as well my dear."

"They were only socks Albus," she countered, rolling her eyes. His eyes twinkled and he winked at her.

"Yes but they were just what I wanted." He left with a twirl of his cloak, walking down the path in his ridiculous robes as he headed to the end of the street where he disappeared with another cloak twirl.

Albus Dumbledore was a complex man. He was full of mysteries and secrets and she wasn't about to go unravelling them because who knew what would be revealed! No, she was going to finish her tea, feed her cats, have her dinner (cabbage and pork) and then settle down till it was time for her to babysit Harry. If she wasn't able to persuade Albus into moving him to a safer, more lovable home then she was going to do her best to keep him safe and happy.


	7. Chapter 7

The process of building the school was a hard one but deciding which student went where had been even harder. It had been full of arguments, shouts and hexes whilst she had sat calmly in the corner and watched them all act as if their friendship had meant nothing.

Salazar wanted the cunning, resourceful and ambitious students but due to his mistrust and hatred of muggleborns, he wished that none of them were to join his house. She'd never seen such a prejudiced side to her fellow founder and was shocked. Godric wanted those who were brave, courageous, daring and strong willed and he welcomed wizards of any blood status due to no quarrel. This only served to draw a rift between the two wizards. Rowena, like Godric, held no quarrel with muggleborns and she welcomed anybody of magical blood as long as they were intelligent, wise and creative.

Helga was stuck with 'everyone else' but these were the people who held patience and were hard working, kind and tolerant but dedicated and fair. It didn't matter to her for these were the people who were always underestimated.

The housing process was definitely made a lot easier with some of Helga's food that she had taught the house elves to make. They were kind to the four witches and wizards, humble and thankful for their new home and chance to work in a calm environment where no violence occurred. She had made sure of that. They were skilled at what they did and were quick to learn the food charms that she had created and they promised that the recipes would be carried on for centuries to come.

She only prayed that they managed to get the school open in time; with the way those three kept arguing, she doubted it ever would. She'd sit back and be patient, however, because that was what a Hufflepuff did.


	8. Chapter 8

The process of building the school was a hard one but deciding which student went where had been even harder. It had been full of arguments, shouts and hexes whilst she had sat calmly in the corner and watched them all act as if their friendship had meant nothing.

Salazar wanted the cunning, resourceful and ambitious students but due to his mistrust and hatred of muggleborns, he wished that none of them were to join his house. She'd never seen such a prejudiced side to her fellow founder and was shocked. Godric wanted those who were brave, courageous, daring and strong willed and he welcomed wizards of any blood status due to no quarrel. This only served to draw a rift between the two wizards. Rowena, like Godric, held no quarrel with muggleborns and she welcomed anybody of magical blood as long as they were intelligent, wise and creative.

Helga was stuck with 'everyone else' but these were the people who held patience and were hard working, kind and tolerant but dedicated and fair. It didn't matter to her for these were the people who were always underestimated.

The housing process was definitely made a lot easier with some of Helga's food that she had taught the house elves to make. They were kind to the four witches and wizards, humble and thankful for their new home and chance to work in a calm environment where no violence occurred. She had made sure of that. They were skilled at what they did and were quick to learn the food charms that she had created and they promised that the recipes would be carried on for centuries to come.

She only prayed that they managed to get the school open in time; with the way those three kept arguing, she doubted it ever would. She'd sit back and be patient, however, because that was what a Hufflepuff did.


	9. Chapter 9

She didn't like being a moany ghost and she didn't like having no friends because nobody could stand her. It was just the way of life. Or death.

Could she help it if she was killed at an age where she was hormonal? No, she couldn't. Could she help it if she got annoyed when people used her bathroom, her toilet? No, not really. Because her main fear in that regard was that someone else would get killed in almost the same place as her and then she'd be stuck with another kid who was moany and whiny.

If she carried on being a hormonal, whiny ghost then she could successfully push people away and prevent any deaths from happening in the cursed place then she could carry on being dead for eternally happy.

As long as people stopped throwing books at her and tried to score points for getting it in her head.

Oh and also as long as people stopped releasing the foul beast that started her mess in the first place.

"You do know that your fear is pointless now, don't you dear?" Sir Nicholas asked one night after she'd managed to make yet another student flee from her room. "Harry Potter has destroyed the wizard that caused this to happen to you and any other problems in the years since."

"Of course I do Sir," she replied softly. "But who's to say that he's the last of his kind? Wouldn't do me any good to have a student bleed out on the floor now and share the cubicle with another child who will moan about anything." He smiled softly. "I have to protect them."

"Myrtle-"

"No!" She interrupted fiercely. "I'm Moaning Myrtle and I'll be moaning until I leave this place."


	10. Chapter 10

"Tom Marvolo Riddle," she breathed, panting heavily as she cradled her newborn baby boy, watching him suckle on her breast. "You're so very handsome," she informed him and smiled when his left hand tightened around one of her fingers. "I'm sorry that Daddy can't be here for you, I thought he loved us but I was wrong. I'll protect you though," she promised.

Tom Riddle was a handsome and wealthy muggle who Merope had fallen in love with; well, fallen in love with was such a loose term – infatuated, enamoured, besotted, obsessed. They were all suitable terms for her feelings. When it became apparent that he didn't care for her the way she needed and desired, she turned to magical needs and drugged him.

With both her brother and her father imprisoned, she was free to be with whomever she wanted, and she wanted him. Obviously the loneliness that had suddenly been sprung upon her had some influence on her behaviours and feelings but he was the one she wanted.

For months he was drugged, glazed eyes and an inability to take his mind off of her and she loved every second of it. But she knew that deep down he loved her and that it wasn't the potion having the effect. So she stopped the drug. Once he was free from the poison that had been running through his veins, his disgust at her and what had occurred was enough to drive him away only minutes after being told she was pregnant.

Months later and here she was, alone in an orphanage with her newborn son and Mrs Cole.

The milk her son had consumed was enough to send him to sleep and she allowed the older woman to cradle him gently and take him to bed, placing him into a small crib beside her. Tiredness was seeping into her bones and her heart felt extremely heavy, her magic almost depleted.

She didn't take her eyes off of her son, even when she closed her eyes for the final time.


	11. Chapter 11

She felt beautiful in her dress; who was she kidding? She was beautiful. Eyes were glued to her and his eyes sparkled with emotions and tears that she felt a lump in her own throat. It wasn't her first wedding and from the glances she had received throughout the evening, many suspected that it wouldn't be her last.

Including her own son.

"Would you stop looking at him like that?" She snapped as he glided her across the dance floor, skilfully avoiding other partners that weren't dancing as well as they believed. Did she-? Yep, Pansy Parkinson just fell over. She sighed with annoyance.

"Like what Mother?" He responded innocently.

"Like he's about to drop dead right in front of our eyes. He isn't you know." She eyed his amused smirk and rolled her eyes. She marries a bunch of guys who die of natural courses a year or two after their wedding and suddenly they're suspicious of them all. "He's younger than the others."

"Could've been a glamour," he said, spinning her elegantly and causing her dress to flare up. "This one is different though," he added afterwards. "I've seen the way you behave around him. He's special."

"Yes he is," she confirmed, sighing with happiness and resting her head on her son's chest. "I love him and I'd be distraught if he was to suddenly keel over and die."

"Oh so you weren't distraught when the others did exactly that?"

"Blaise!" She reprimanded and he chuckled before kissing her on the forehead.

"It's okay Mother, as long as he doesn't hurt you, he'll live a long and healthy life. Promise."


	12. Chapter 12

"Love, are you okay?" Ted asked tentatively, watching his young wife pace around their living room. She'd been doing it for the past half an hour after entering through the floo in a flurry of robes and shouts. "Why don't y-"

"I'm bloody brilliant," she exclaimed, interrupting him. "I've just been blasted off of the family tree!" He winced and walked towards her, attempting to pull her into a hug to console her. He knew that she didn't want to lose contact with her family.

"I'm sorry," he offered and she pushed him away.

"Don't be," she told him, tugging on her black hair. "I've just done one of the most incredible things in my entire life! The first being that I married you, obviously." He smirked and pulled her closer. "The second being that I walked into my family home, basically told them to go screw themselves, dodged a few hexes and got disowned!"

"You're such a bad apple," he informed her, peppering kisses along her neck. "It's completely turning me on." She giggled and kissed him furiously before pulling away and returning to pacing.

"I should probably speak to Sirius," she mumbled and he stood there silently until her thought process ended. "He's a bad apple too. Not that they know that yet because the boy hasn't even been sorted but he's a bad apple too and he's going to need proper family in the coming years."

"We'll be there for him," he reassured her, wrapping his arms around her from behind and resting his chin on her shoulder. "Always."


	13. Chapter 13

With a growl of frustration to the wizard standing before her, she turned on the spot and immediately took to the skies in her animagus form - a bird. Merlin had thwarted yet another one of her plans to take over the throne from her half - brother Arthur, making magic a big part of Camelot's life and finally putting an end to muggle's superiority and allow them to realise their inferiority. Wizards and witches weren't meant to stand in the shadows, casted out or killed if they showed their worth. That was something she just couldn't stand for, unlike Merlin.

There were others who agreed with her, unable to be destroyed just for saving someone's life. There were others who agreed with Merlin, believing that muggles should have the ability to live their life free from fear or slavery. They didn't have a secret weapon; she did.

Mordred.

He was like her brother, a wizard of dark arts who formed a close bond with her when he was cast out due to his abnormal conception. Being the product of an incest relationship, he'd been used to hatred but when he'd tried to form a friendship with Arthur, he'd been cast aside again and had turned to her.

Squawking once in Merlin's direction, diving down to him and scratching his face with her talons, she quickly flew in the opposite direction of Camelot and headed straight for her army.

Upon arrival she transformed back into her human form and turned to Mordred. "We leave tomorrow," she ordered and he nodded solemnly. "They will get their comeuppance," she promised. "We will guarantee it."


End file.
